


The Night Before...

by littlemisscurious



Series: Days In Our Lives [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Daddy!Batch, F/M, Fluff, Pregnant, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a prompt I received on tumblr (w-is-for-writing.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before...

“No Mum, it’s fine….Yes, really...Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow!..Bye Mum.” With a quiet sigh, I put the phone down only to hear Benedict behind me chuckling quietly. “What’s so funny, Mr Cumberbatch?,” I turn around with a grin and he instantly pretends to be serious again. “Oh nothing. Nothing at all.” He clears his throat, the sheepish grin still on his face, and I laugh quietly. “Oh god, what a week it’s been. I hope it doesn’t sound wrong but I can’t wait until tomorrow is over and everything goes back to normal,” I sigh again, shuffling over to where he leans onto his desk.

I smile as his strong arms wrap themselves around me and he pulls me closer, pressing a gentle kiss onto my temple. “I can’t wait for tomorrow to begin,” he whispers against my skin, his hot breath tickling my ear. “I know, me neither. But I could do with less calls from my overly-concerned mother,” I mumble against his shirt, breathing in the scent of our washing powder, his favourite cologne and the unmissable smell of just him, my husband-to-be. “Just turn off the phone,” he grins and I chuckle, turning up my face to bury it in the crook of his neck. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” I agree and for a moment we simply remain like this, snuggled up to each other, listening to the sound of our hearts.

“Do you want to do this the traditional way tonight?,” Benedict asks quietly after a while and I lift my head to look at him. “You mean with you sleeping elsewhere?” He nods, visibly hesitant, and I ponder his question for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest. And isn't it a little too late for that anyway?" Resting my hand lovingly on my bump, I wink at him and the happy smile returns to his face in no time.

I close my eyes as his hand comes to rest next to mine only to be greeted by a welcoming kick from our little one. “Somebody’s excited,” Benedict whispers lovingly and I nod as I look up into his eyes again. “Wouldn’t want to miss the fun, eh?,” I giggle, pressing a kiss onto his cheek.

 

The warm light from the fireplace bathes everything around us in an orange-golden hue, making me feel content and safe and home while the eyes of my fiancé rest on me. Outside rain is pouring from the sky, flooding pavements and front yards alike. The streets are empty tonight, only the odd taxi can be heard driving through the night, watched by the endless row of lit-up living room windows of the quiet neighbourhood.

I chuckle quietly as Benedict’s stomach rumbles. “Come on, let’s get dinner ready,” I smile and he nods, blushing a bit. Our movements in the kitchen are almost synchronised, each of us knowing what to do and when to hand things over to the respective other. It doesn’t take long until the potatoes, vegetables, and the meat are cooking away on the stove, allowing us a few moments to relax.

Gently, Benedict sits me down on one of the barstools and I am glad to get some rest. Many have thought us crazy to get married while I am so heavily pregnant but both he and I had agreed that we want our child to be born into a family sealed by the holy sacrament of marriage even if the conception was far from traditional and - most of all - thoroughly unplanned.

“Thank you,” I smile and he breathes a tender kiss onto my forehead as he stands between my legs, his hands resting on my thighs. “You look tired, darling,” Benedict mumbles against my skin and I nod, leaning my head against his chest. “I am a bit tired but it’s nothing that a nice, long cuddle with my husband-to-be can’t cure,” I whisper against his shirt. With a smile, I bury my hands underneath his cardigan, relishing the warmth emanating from his body through his shirt. “That can definitely be arranged, my love.” His low, soft voice rumbles through his chest, sending a shiver down my spine. He could still make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even after all these years since I met him first.

***

Dinner is a quiet affair with loving glances over burning candles and fleeting touches of our hands as we ‘accidentally’ try to take the pepper at the same time. When he looks at me with his ocean-blue eyes so full of love and tenderness, he makes me blush every single time and I feel like the most loved woman on earth. And while the evening moves on, I try to banish all these doubts from my mind, those nagging thoughts about whether I am good enough for him.

“Come on, darling,” he smiles at me, the table long cleared from our plates, his hand stretched out towards me. With a thankful smile, I lay my hand in his and get up, my other hand cradling my bump protectively, a habit I had formed unconsciously. “What about a nice warm bath and then we go to bed so we’re rested tomorrow, hm?,” Benedict suggests, pulling me into an embrace, and I simply nod in agreement. I love the way he holds me, the way his hands find that perfect spot on my lower back where they come to rest while his cheek is pressed against my temple. I can feel him breathing underneath my touch, can hear his heartbeat, steady and regular, and so in unison with my own.

The fire in the fireplace has long burned down and, switching off the lights on the ground floor, we slowly walk up the wooden staircase, the floorboards creaking underneath our feet. The house is dark except for the silver moonlight shining in through the windows upstairs, casting eerie shadows onto the walls and doors.

 

I close my eyes for a moment while Benedict turns on the tap and hot water begins to fill the bathtub, the smell of the vanilla & honey bath oil wafting through the air. A smile spreads on my lips as I can feel his hands on me, gently removing the clothes from my tired body until they are all piled up by my feet. Lovingly, his lips glide over my skin, nipping on the tender tissue of my neck, my collarbone, my décolleté while his hands rest on my waist. A content smile on my lips, I bury my hands in his curls, enjoying their softness underneath my fingertips before I interrupt his caresses to rid him of his clothes himself.

***

“Are you scared?,” I whisper into the darkness as we lie cuddled up in bed, facing each other without really seeing anything. “No. I’m nervous but not scared,” Benedict replies just as quietly and I nod even though he cannot see it. “Are you scared?,” he mumbles after a moment and I quickly respond to his question. “No. No I’m not scared. But I’m nervous, too. I hope I won’t trip over my dress or say something stupid.” He chuckles quietly and I do to, the atmosphere becoming less tense all of a sudden. “You know, Charlene, I never thought I’d be as happy as I am with you, so as long as you manage an “I do” at the end of whatever you say, I am content.” I can literally hear him grin like a Cheshire cat and I bite my lip, laughing. “I think I can manage that,” I breathe, carefully moving closer to him, my arm gliding around him to come to rest on his back. “I love you, Benedict.” “I love you, too, Charlene. Both of you. From the bottom of my heart.”


End file.
